Making Sense in Senseless Times
by Flash Foreward
Summary: there isn't anywhere else to go. Not this time. Jack/Chad


**Disclaimer:** I do not own V.  
**Spoilers:** For 2x08 - "Uneasy Lies the Head"

**Making Sense in Senseless Times**

Her name on the caller ID is what pushes him over the edge. He can't talk to her right now, not after…_consider this an order_. He leaves the phone, leaves the basement, and just walks. He isn't sure of where he's going or if he's going anywhere. He just needs to be out. Away.

When he gets to Chad's, he's not completely sure how he got there. He knows it involved some combination of walking and the subway, and he vaguely remembers choosing a particular direction, he just doesn't remember choosing a destination.

But he's here now and he realizes there isn't anywhere else to go. Not this time.

Chad's awake, and he answers the door almost immediately. He doesn't say anything, just steps aside and lets Jack in. Jack starts pacing the living room, pausing only to accept the beer Chad offers him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chad leaning back against the wall, nursing a beer of his own.

He's waiting, letting Jack take his time. For that, Jack is grateful.

He paces for a bit longer, organizing his thoughts, then he comes to a halt facing Chad, his untouched beer loose in his grip. He takes a deep breath, holds Chad's gaze, and dives in as best he can. "I don't. I don't know if I can do this anymore," he says. He glances away, then flicks his eyes back to Chad's. "All those people, they're all dead because of us."

"I know," Chad says in a quiet voice. He steps forward and tentatively settles a hand on Jack's arm. "I know."

"I just," Jack's voice catches and he takes a sip of his beer. "I know what we're fighting for, I know how important it is," he takes another sip, "but I'm not convinced we're going about this the right way." _Consider this an order_.

Chad slides his hand along Jack's arm and takes Jack's hand, his fingers loose. He takes another step forward. "I'm not either," he says. "But we can't quit now. We can't just walk away."

Jack pulls away, turns away. He looks around at Chad's living room, trying to distract himself – modest furniture and sparse decoration, not what Jack would have expected. "I know," he says after a second, his voice low. "I know. We have to fight."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Chad says. Jack turns back to him, his brow furrowed, and Chad gives him a humorless smile. "I meant," he pauses, thinking, then steps forward, gesturing as he speaks. "They need us," he says. "You and me, they need us, or people – innocent people – will keep being collateral."

"But Erica–"

"Erica's hurting right now," Chad interrupts quickly. "She's listening, even if she doesn't realize it."

Jack shakes his head. He walks past Chad and sets his beer on the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. He leans against the counter, pressing his hands against the cool surface. "It all just feels so senseless," he says, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting hot tears – half anger, half frustration.

He hears a click as Chad's beer joins his on the counter. He feels a hand on his back and warm breath on his neck. "It's war," Chad whispers. "Of course it's senseless."

Jack turns to Chad, lets him step closer. He presses his forehead to Chad's and wraps an arm around Chad's waist, pulling him even closer. There's a voice in the back of his head, wondering why he's doing this, but Chad's hands pushing his jacket from his shoulders banishes the voice and he lets his own hands start to tug Chad's shirt up and over his head.

Soon enough, they're chest to chest and he finally tilts his head, bringing his lips to Chad's.

But Chad pulls away.

He looks at Jack, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling quickly. It's obvious how much he wants this, but the pulls himself away. "Are you sure about this?" he asks.

"Chad."

"You're a priest."

"Was," Jack snaps, harsher than he intends. "I _was_ a priest."

"Are you sure about this?"

Jack steps forward. He reaches out tentatively, brushing his fingers against Chad's chest. "I'm sure," he says, his eyes locked on Chad's. A moment passes, then Chad nods and steps forward, pressing his body against Jack's.

And their lips collide.

And Jack knows, he realizes, that somehow this makes sense.


End file.
